


The More Things Change

by Kathi_C



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Christmas, Dreams, Historical, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-03
Updated: 2010-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:18:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kathi_C/pseuds/Kathi_C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fall on the ice sets a few things in motion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The More Things Change

**Author's Note:**

> I marked this as Teen because, while not graphic, there is violence to be had. This fic deals with bigotry towards immigrints(sp?) that was widespread in America at the end of the eighteenth and beginning of the twentieth centuries. I did a bit of research so it's as historically accurate as I could make it.

December 23 and it was snowing. That made Blair Sandburg happy. What made him   
even happier was the fact that it was predicted to last through Christmas.   
Normally, Blair hated the cold with a passion but he made an exception for   
Christmas.

Jewish by birth, he celebrated Hanukkah but he enjoyed Christmas as well. As an   
anthropologist, he loved watching the different cultures and their traditions.   
As the proverbial kid at heart he loved the magic that surrounded the holiday.   
It was even better now that he had a home. A home he shared with one Det. James   
Ellison, Cascade PD and Sentinel.

During the holidays, Jim's heightened senses were sometimes hard pressed. The   
bright, twinkling lights, the constant playing of Christmas carols, and the   
smell of pine, incense and spice were all increased in December. Thank God Jim   
had Blair with him to help him.

Jim normally didn't decorate the loft but that changed when Blair moved in. The   
young man approached him one evening in December the first year they had lived   
together and asked if he could decorate the loft. He had such a look of child   
like anticipation on his face that there was no way Jim could say no.

One day, he came home and found the loft decorated in green, red, white, silver,   
and gold. He wasn't sure what he had expected but this wasn't it. There was a   
wreath made of greenery on the door. On the inside, it looked great. There were   
lights around all the windows and the patio doors.

Green and red bows were hung on the patio doors. More greenery decorated the   
banister and the railing in Jim's room. A six foot Christmas tree stood in the   
corner. It was decorated in silver and gold with twinkling white lights.

On one of the shelves sat different representations of St. Nick from around the   
world. Miniature menorahs were at either end of the shelf. Jim enjoyed it and   
Blair was very proud of himself.

That was two Christmases ago. Last year and this, Jim insisted on helping Blair   
decorate. They enjoyed that part almost as much as the finished product.   
Blair was standing at the patio doors when he heard Jim come down the stairs.   
"Chief, you ready?" he asked.

"I'm ready, big guy," Blair said. He walked over to the door and grabbed his   
coat. "This is so cool, man. I mean, giving these kids Christmas when they   
normally wouldn't have one. It's a great thing for your karma."

"And I thought it was just because you're a big kid," Jim smiled.

"There is that."

Most of Major Crimes was already there when Jim and Blair arrived at the   
community center . At one of the main room, a twenty foot Christmas tree stood.   
Next to it was a throne-like chair where Santa could sit while he passed out   
presents.

A band was set up at the other end of the room for entertainment. There were   
several booths for arts and crafts. There was also a separate area for the   
adults to get clothes and food.

There would be about two hundred families due that night. Kids from the high   
school, including Daryl Banks, were acting as Santa's helpers for the evening.   
They'd be helping with the refreshments and passing out presents.

Jim would be working the food area with Joel and several members of the Jags.   
The cheerleaders were also there. They were part of the entertainment as well as   
several other areas. Sheila from IA was in charge of the clothing area.

Part of the money for this had been raised from a celebrity auction in November.   
The refreshments were donated by local restaurants. Toys, clothes, and food   
stuffs were donated by the public. That was the part that always worried Simon.   
Actually, as a member of the board that oversaw this, he worried about all of   
it. He wouldn't stop worrying until the party was over.

Blair didn't have a specified area. He was playing gopher that night, making   
sure the different areas were kept supplied. He also helped with lost children   
and answered all kinds of questions. He planned on having fun that night.

When the two men walked in the front doors of the community center, the first   
thing they saw was an exhibit that was set up there. As they got closer, they   
saw it was a miniature town, an affluent area and an impoverished area, both   
decked out for Christmas. A small plaque explained the exhibit.

"New York City at Christmas, circa 1895. Immigrant area of lower east side and   
the more affluent area of the west side. Owned and designed by Mrs. Sarah   
Stephens"

"This is so cool," Blair said. "Yes, it is," Jim agreed. "I wonder how accurate   
it is."

"As accurate as I could get it," a voice behind them said.

Jim and Blair turned around and saw a woman standing there. "My grandmother was   
six at the time this is set," she said. She walked over to the exhibit and   
motioned them closer.

"This is the street where she was born and grew up," the woman explained. "She   
lived there until my grandfather died in 1950. My sister lives there now."

"I'm surprised you included the immigrant area," Blair said.

"The love of my great grandfather's life was from that area," she said, " and he   
owned a garment factory there. He was considered quite a revolutionary in those   
days."

"How so?" Jim asked.

"He actually treated the people that worked for him decently," she smiled. "In   
1895, that was quite scandalous."

"I'm sure," Blair said. Just then, Simon stormed into the foyer. "There you two   
are," he said. "Would you come on? We have work to do." They said their   
good-byes to Mrs. Stephens and followed Simon.

The party was a huge success. Every child got a present, a coat if they needed   
it, a stocking stuffed with candy and fruit, and clothes. Their parents got   
clothes and a large food basket that included a certificate for milk, eggs, and   
other perishables.

Jim had taken a break and was drinking eggnog as he watched Blair helping some   
of the kids at one of the craft tables. He looked up and gave Jim a blinding   
grin. Jim smiled back even as his heart was aching.

Just then Simon walked up to him. "So, Jim," he said, "do you ever plan on   
telling Sandburg how you feel about him?"

Jim almost choked on his eggnog. "Say that again," he said.

"Don't play ignorant with me, Jim," Simon said. He softened. "You are in love   
with him, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am," Jim admitted. "I've played both sides of the fence for twenty   
years, but I've never felt like this about anyone, not even Carolyn."

"So tell him," Simon advised.

"Tell Mr. Different Woman Every Night, his male roommate is in love with him,"   
Jim said. "After I do, I'll invite you over to see the skid marks when he runs   
out of the apartment."

Simon just shook his head.

Brian Rafe walked over to Blair. "Take a break, Hairboy," he said, "and let's   
get something to drink."

"Sounds great," Blair said.

They walked over and got some punch then headed for one of the empty rooms.   
Brian looked at the younger man as he leaned against the wall and sighed.

"So, Blair," Brian started, "still haven't told him?"

"Tell Mr. Straight as a two by four that I'm in love with him?" Blair asked.   
"Can I come live with you when he throws my ass out?"

"Something tells me he wouldn't throw you out," Brian smiled.

"I wish I was as sure of that as you are," Blair said.

"You should be," Brian said.

It was close to midnight before all the families were gone. The volunteers were   
cleaning up. Blair found himself standing in front of the exhibit again. From   
what he knew of his family history, Naomi's grandparents immigrated from Eastern   
Europe about that time. He wondered what it would have been like to live in that   
time.

Oh, he knew what all the books said, but that wasn't the same thing. New York   
City in 1895. Ellis Island. Give me your poor, your tired, your huddled masses,   
yearning to be free.

"Blair," Daryl said, coming up to him. "Jim is looking for you on the dock."

"Thanks, Daryl," Blair said. He turned and followed the teen into the main room   
then headed for the dock.

One thing that could be said about Blair Sandburg, and often was said, was that   
he was a trouble magnet. And what made it even worse was the fact that most of   
the trouble he found generally wasn't his fault. It was usually a case of wrong   
place, wrong time.

During the day, the sun had shone on the dock, causing the snow that was there   
to melt and become slush. Most of it stayed slush even after the sun had gone   
down. There were a few spots, however that were frozen under the slush.   
Jim and Simon and some of the others were loading a truck with leftovers from   
the party for a local shelter. Blair appeared in the doorway, not really wanting   
to venture into the cold.

"Hey, Jim," he said, "you wanted to see me."

"Yeah, Chief," Jim said. "Get your butt out here and give us a hand."   
"It's cold out there, Jim."

Just then a snowball hit Blair in the middle of the chest. He looked over and   
saw Simon standing there holding another one.

"Simon, that is so not like you," Blair said.

"I have another one with your name on it if you don't get your butt out here,"   
Simon threatened.

"All right, all right," Blair sighed. "Violence is never an answer."

Blair stepped onto the dock. He'd only taken three steps when his feet found the   
ice and his feet flew out from under him.

"Blair!" Jim yelled as he saw Blair fall.

Blair landed on his ass with such force that his head struck the cinder block   
wall and he lost consciousness. The last thing he heard was someone yelling for   
an ambulance and the sounds of people running toward him.

New York City, circa 1895

"He's coming around."

A moan escaped Blair and he opened his eyes.

"Are you all right," a man asked.

"I am all right, Mr. Rafe," Blair said. "Please, let me sit up." A couple of men   
helped him sit up.

"Are you sure?" Rafe asked. "That's a pretty good bump on your head."

"I am fine," Blair said. When he stood up, he swayed a little.

"Easy there," Rafe said, grabbing his arm. "Daryl!"

The black teenager ran up to them. "Yes, Mr. Rafe?" he asked.

"Daryl, I want you to accompany Mr. Sandburg back to his rooming house," Rafe   
said.

"Sure thing," Daryl said.

"But my work," Blair protested.

"Will still be here tomorrow," the factory foreman said with a smile.

"Thank you," Blair, said, relieved.

"Off with you both," Rafe said. He noticed a well dressed man standing upstairs  
near the office. "We'll see you tomorrow," he said then walked over to the man.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Ellison," he said.

"Mr. Rafe," Ellison said. "What's going on?"

"The young man took a tumble, he was out cold for a minute," Rafe replied. "I'm   
sending him home with Daryl."

"Who is the young man?" Ellison asked.

"That's young Sandburg," said Rafe.

"The one you said you would be moving to the office when an opening came up,"   
Ellison said.

"He speaks three languages, very educated," Rafe said. "He immigrated from   
Russia about eighteen months ago. He's been working here for most of that time.   
He's an excellent worker, never missed a day of work."

"Oh, yes," Ellison said, nodding. "Mr. Banks has also spoken quite highly of him   
as well. Says he has a quick mind, loves to read."

"That he does," Rafe chuckled. "He brings a book with him to read during lunch."

Ellison digested this. "Lets get to it," he finally said.

If the truth were known, Ellison knew all about Blair Sandburg but it wasn't for   
business reasons. James Edward Ellison, although married atone time and the   
father of a young daughter, preferred men over women. He had been discreet   
in his dalliances and had never been discovered.

Ellison was intrigued by this young man. He was a rare combination of beauty and   
brains. Ellison was determined to get to know this Blair Sandburg and to see if   
he could win his heart.

"You do not have to walk with me," Blair said to Daryl.

"Mr. Rafe told me to make sure you got home safe and that's what I intend to   
do," Daryl said. "I like my job."

"As do I," Blair said.

They were quiet for a moment. "Daryl, are you reading the book I loaned you?"   
Blair asked.

"Sure am," the teenager said. "My father said you're welcome to borrow any of   
his books if you want."

"Please thank your father for me," Blair said.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Most people who come here speak very little English," Daryl started, "yours   
isn't perfect but you sound like you've been speaking it for a while."

"It was my mother's greatest wish to come to America," Blair said. "She insisted   
I learn to speak English so I would be ready. My step father spoke it as well as   
German so I learned both languages."

"Do you miss Russia?" Daryl asked.

"I miss my friends and the town where I am from," Blair said. "Because I am   
Jewish the Czar did terrible things to us."

"I understand that," Daryl said quietly.

They got to Blair's rooming house. It wasn't the Dakota but for being on the   
lower East side, it was quite nice and Blair liked it. They had barely shut the   
door when the owner Mrs. Lemski came out of the kitchen.

"Blair, what are you doing home so early?" she asked.

"I had a little accident," Blair said.

That triggered Mrs. Lemski's mothering mode. "You poor dear," she said. "now you   
go up to your room and get into bed. I have a pot of soup on the stove and I'll   
bring you a bowl."

"Yes, Mrs. Lemski," Blair said. He knew better than to argue.

"As for you young man," Mrs. Lemski said to Daryl, "I believe I can find a piece   
of chocolate cake for you. Unless, of course, you don't like chocolate cake."

"No, not at all, Mrs. Lemski," Daryl said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Blair."

"Good afternoon, Daryl," Blair said as he climbed the stairs.

Fourth of July was a special day, especially for the people of Ellison Garment   
Factory. Mr. Ellison always gave a picnic celebration for his employees and   
their families. Everyone looked forward to it.

There were tables full of food, games, balloons for the children. Mr. Ellison   
was there along with his daughter Clarissa, who was having a grand time playing   
with the other children. Ellison enjoyed these almost as much as his employees.   
He was talking to Simon Banks when he spotted Blair and Daryl sitting under a   
tree. "Daryl seems quite taken with Mr. Sandburg," he observed.

"For which I am very grateful," Simon said. "Daryl has always been an excellent  
student but Blair has made him think, challenged him in a way most of his   
teachers couldn't."

"Indeed," Ellison said. "What do you know about him?"

"His father died when he was a baby," Simon said. "His mother remarried a German   
man and he gave Blair his name."

"Hence a Russian immigrant with a German name."

"Exactly," Simon said. "His father was killed by the Czar's soldiers about ten   
years ago. His mother died about a year before he immigrated. He has no other   
family. He attended school when he was able. Taught himself when he couldn't."   
Simon was one of the few people who knew about Ellison's preferences but never   
passed judgment. He said it wasn't his right to do that. He looked at his   
friend.

"You're interested in him, aren't you?" he asked.

"Does it show?" Ellison asked.

"Only to some one who has known you for almost twenty years," Simon said. "I   
know how lonely you've been since Carolyn died."

"She was a friend, a good friend," Ellison said. "She knew about me but we cared   
for each other."

Daryl and Blair were talking when a little girl came running to them." Hello,"   
she said.

"Hello, Clarissa," Daryl said. "Are you having fun?"

"Oh, yes," Clarissa said. "Sarah and I are having a wonderful time."

"Sarah?" Blair asked.

"My doll," Clarissa said, holding the doll up for them to see. "Isn't she   
pretty? My papa got her for me for my birthday."

"She's very pretty." Daryl agreed.

She looked at Blair. "My name's Clarissa," she said. "What's yours?"

"My name is Blair," Clarissa said.

Just then Ellison and Simon walked up to them. Daryl and Blair both hurried to   
stand. "I see you've met my daughter," Ellison said.

"Yes sir," Blair said, quickly removing his hat.

"Blair Sandburg, this is James Ellison," Simon said.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you," Blair said, extending his hand.

"And you as well, Mr. Sandburg," Ellison said, shaking the offered hand. "I've   
heard many good things about you."

"Thank you, sir," Blair said.

"Mr. Sandburg, you are still joining us for dinner this Sunday?" Simon asked.   
"My wife will be very disappointed if you don't."

"Yes, I will be there," Blair said.

"James, why don't you and Clarissa join us as well," Simon said. "Marta would   
love to see you both."

"I don't want to intrude," Ellison said.

"You won't be," Simon assured him. "Lunch is at one."

"I wouldn't dare dream of upsetting your dear wife," Ellison said. "I will be   
there."

"Excellent," Simon said. He looked at the sky. "It'll be sundown in less than an   
hour. The fire works will be an excellent ending to a wonderful day."

"Yes, it will," Ellison smiled. "I hope you young men will enjoy the display."

"I am sure we will," Blair said, giving Ellison a smile.

Simon could almost hear his friend's heart skip a beat or two and his breath   
catch in his chest. The tall black man smiled to himself.   
"Until Sunday," he said. "Gentlemen." He turned and walked away.

"Papa, may I have some ice cream?" Clarissa asked.

"Haven't you had some?" Ellison asked.

"Sarah hasn't had any yet," Clarissa explained.

"Well, we must remedy that," Ellison smiled. "Enjoy your evening." He took his   
daughter's hand and moved away.

July turned into August and it brought major changes in Blair's and Ellison's   
lives. They would be welcome changes but it would be a difficult road to travel.

Ellison was sitting in his office at home with a nervous young man in front of   
him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Ellison," the young man said. "I realize it isn't much notice. . ."

"It can't be helped," Ellison said. "Your brother is ill. Of course you must   
move to San Francisco. Family is very important. When do you leave?"

"Next Monday," the young man said.

"I will have your pay ready on Friday," Ellison said. "If you would be so kind   
as to make some notes on the workings here, I'm sure your replacement would be   
most appreciative."

"Of course, sir," he said. "May I say it's been both an honor and a pleasure   
working for you."

"Thank you," Ellison said, "and do let me know how your brother does."

"I shall, sir."

"Now off with you," Ellison said. "I'm sure you have plenty to do before you   
leave."

"Thank you, sir," he said. "I'll have the notes ready on Friday." They shook   
hands and the young man left.

Ellison rubbed his eyes. Damn, he hated breaking in new people. Suddenly an idea   
came to him, making him smile.

Blair Sandburg.

If his foreman thought Blair could handle working in the factory office, Ellison   
was sure he could handle work as his assistant and secretary. It would also give   
Ellison a better chance to get to know the young man.

Walking out of his office, he walked up the stairs to the third floor and to the   
unused bedroom at the end of the hall. He opened the door and went inside.   
It had been several years since this room had been used. It would need to be   
aired out and cleaned before anyone could move in. It would do nicely. It   
connected to a small sitting room that also connected to Ellison's room. It   
would need to be cleaned as well. With a smile, he turned and headed downstairs.

He left instructions with his housekeeper Mrs. Mallory about the two rooms.   
There was small smile on his face. It was going to be a wonderful day.

Blair was just finishing the piece he was working on when Daryl came up to him.   
"Blair, Mr. Rafe wants to see you in his office right away," the teenager said.   
\  
Blair's eyes grew wide and he swallowed hard. People rarely received good news   
in the foreman's office. He tried not to panic as he walked up the stairs to the   
main office. He knocked on the door then opened it and walked in.

He was surprised to see Mr. Ellison sitting in the office as well. "Come in, Mr.   
Sandburg," Rafe said. "Mr. Ellison would like to speak with you."

Blair shut the door. "Have I done something wrong?" he asked quietly.

"Not at all," Rafe said. "Please sit down." Blair took a chair across the desk   
from Rafe.

"Mr. Sandburg, Mr. Rafe told me that he promised you a position in the office   
when one opens," Ellison said.

"Yes, sir," Blair nodded.

"My assistant and secretary had to resign this morning," Ellison said. "I have   
spoken to Mr. Rafe and with his recommendation, I would like to offer you the   
position."

"You want me to be your assistant?" Blair was stunned.

"I do," Ellison agreed. "It pays twenty-five dollars a week plus room and   
board."

"I would live at your house?" Blair asked.

"I work odd hours and late nights are not uncommon," Ellison said. "It would be   
advantageous for you to live there. Are you interested?"

"Yes, of course," Blair smiled. "Thank you, sir."

"Excellent," Ellison said with a nod. "You can move in on Sunday and your duties   
begin on Monday."

"I do not have much to move," Blair said.

"No matter," Ellison said. "We can get you whatever it is you might need."

Blair was in shock. He managed to finish the conversation and return to work but   
he'd be hard pressed to remember what was said. He felt everyone's eyes on him,   
wondering what had gone on in the foreman's office. They wondered even more when   
they saw Ellison come out of the office.

When lunch time arrived Blair grabbed his lunch bucket and hurried outside. He   
hoped he would be able to figure out what had happened that morning. It was all   
very confusing.

That evening, Blair told Mrs. Lemski he would be moving out that Sunday. She was   
very happy four him when she found out why he was moving.

Saturday evening, Blair packed what little he had. Besides what he was wearing   
he had two other sets of clothes. He also had three boxes of books plus another   
box of personal belongings. They were things he managed to keep when he sold   
everything else he owned to buy passage to America.

Sunday, afternoon, Daryl showed up a with a horse and wagon. He looked around at   
the four boxes and the one well worn suitcase.

"This is it?" the teenager asked.

"It is everything I own," Blair said.

"This won't take long," Daryl said.

He picked up two of the boxes and headed down the stairs. Blair grabbed another   
box and his suitcase and followed him down. Daryl returned for the last box and   
they head for Ellison's house.

The wagon was driven to the back of the house. As they climbed off the wagon,   
the back door opened and Mrs. Mallory walked out.

"There you are," she said. "We were beginning to wonder."

"Sorry, Mrs. Mallory," Daryl said. "Where do you want these things?"

"You're Mr. Sandburg, I take it," Mrs. Mallory said.

"Yes, ma'am," Blair answered.

"Your room is on the third floor, end of the hall on the left," Mrs. Mallory   
said. "Daryl, you can take his things there."

"Come on, Blair," Daryl said. They grabbed the boxes and suitcase and headed up   
the stairs. When they got to the room, Katie O'Roarke was making the bed. She   
looked up as they walked in.

"Hi, Katie," Daryl said.

"Hello, Daryl," Katie smiled. "You must be Blair Sandburg. I'm Katie O'Roarke. I   
help around the house and take care of Clarissa."

"A pleasure to meet you," Blair said.

"The sitting room is through that door and the bathroom is across the hall,"   
Katie informed him. "Mr. Ellison's room is on the other side of the sitting   
room."

Mrs. Mallory appeared in the doorway. "Mr. Ellison would like to see you in the   
den. Daryl, your father is with him."

"Yes, ma'am," Daryl said. "Come on, Blair." They headed down the stairs.

When they got to the first floor, Daryl led the way to the den. He knocked on   
the door then opened it. Blair walked in followed by Daryl, who shut the door   
behind them.

"Ah, Mr. Sandburg, come in," Ellison greeted him. "Are you moved in?"

"Yes, sir," Blair said. He looked around at the full bookshelves. "I did not   
have much to move."

"Mostly books," Daryl supplied.

"We'll have to get you some book shelves for your room," Ellison said.   
"That is not necessary," Blair assured Ellison.

"Books should be out where they can be enjoyed," Ellison stated.

There was a knock at the door and Mrs. Mallory walked in, "Dinner is in one   
hour, Mr. Ellison," she said. She looked at Simon. "Will you be joining Mr.   
Ellison for dinner, Mr. Banks?"

"Not today, Mrs. Mallory," Simon said. "My wife is expecting us. Come along,   
Daryl."

"Yes, sir," Daryl said. They said their good-byes, then departed.

"Sit down, Mr. Sandburg," Ellison said. "How is your room?"

"It is wonderful," Blair said, "very beautiful."

"My late wife's doing," Ellison said. "She decorated this house top to bottom."

"Your daughter favors your wife?" Blair asked.

"Yes, she does, thank God," Ellison said. "I would not curse any woman with my   
looks. Tomorrow, we will be busy. Do you own a suit?"

"No, sir," Blair said.

"We'll have to remedy that," Ellison said. "As my assistant, there are times   
when you will be representing me and you must be properly attired."

"I see," Blair said.

"There will also be some social events you may attend as well," Ellison said.

"I am not very good at social gatherings," Blair said quietly.

"Neither am I," Ellison admitted, "but there are certain responsibilities that   
go with my station as my brother is always quick to remind me."

They talked until it was time for dinner. During dinner, Blair finally began to   
relax. He even laughed a little. After dinner, Blair retired to his room to   
unpack. That only took a few minutes. When he was done, he took one of his books   
and sat in a chair by the window.

He had been reading for a few minutes when there was a knock on his door.   
Getting up, he opened the door and saw Ellison standing there.

"Mr. Ellison," Blair said.

"May I come in?" Ellison asked.

"Of course," Blair returned.

"Clarissa and I are going to the park," Ellison said. "We would like you to   
accompany us."

"I would not wish to intrude."

"You won't be intruding," Ellison said. "Please join us."

"All right," Blair agreed.

"August turn to September"

Ellison had two business suits and a dress suit made for Blair. He also got the   
young man shirts, shoes and other things the young man would need for business   
and the necessary social events.

One thing that surprised Ellison was the fact that none of the ladies sat the   
social gatherings tried to foist their eligible daughters on Blair. He said as   
much to Simon one day.

"That's easy to explain, my friend," Simon said. "They would no more encourage   
Blair to court their daughters than they would encourage me."

Jim's face showed his confusion. "Blair is Jewish," Simon said. "They may like   
him but not as a son-in-law."

"But Blair doesn't practice his religion," Ellison said. "I don't think I've   
ever seen him set foot in a synagogue."

"That's beside the point," Simon said. "Even if he were to convert, he was born   
a Jew and to them, he will always be Jewish."   
\  
Simon looked at his friend. "Have your feelings changed?"

"If anything they are stronger," Ellison confessed. "Perhaps I was wrong to   
bring him here. To have him so close and not to be able to touch him is a kind   
of sweet torture."

"If it's meant to be, it will happen," Simon assured him.

Ellison and Blair settled into a routine of sorts. Monday through Friday, they   
worked on the business and whatever that entailed. After dinner, Ellison would   
spend time with Clarissa until it was time for her to get ready for bed.

In the evenings, they spent time together. Not as employer and employee, but as   
friends. Little by little, the older man was able to draw Blair out. They drank   
coffee and brand and talked about politics, books, business, and a variety of   
subjects. Sometimes, they just sat and read.

If there was no business pressing, Saturdays were spent at different social   
events. Ellison took Blair to the museum for the first time. Watching Blair as   
he saw everything made the older man smile.

Clarissa also insisted that Blair join her and her father on their outings. The   
little girl had taken quite a liking to the young man and he liked her as well.   
Sometimes, she would crawl into his lap to talk and she insisted on kissing him   
goodnight. That made her father happy.

Ellison took every opportunity to touch Blair. At first, it startled the young   
man but he got used to it and even returned it. The two men were becoming very   
good friends.

People became used to seeing the two men together. If they thought anything   
about it, they simply thought the older man had taken the younger man under his   
wing, teaching him about the business.

It was also during this time Blair met the younger Mr. Ellison. Stephen Ellison   
was a lawyer and doing very well for himself. He handled his brother's legal   
affairs, business and personal. He and Blair took an immediate liking to each   
other.

"You're in love with him," Stephen said. It wasn't a question.

"I didn't think I was that obvious," Ellison said.

"James, I have known about your preferences since we were both in our teens,"   
Stephen said. "I haven't seen you look at anyone like that since Marcus died."

"I thought I would die when he died," Ellison said quietly. "That's how Father   
was able to get me to agree to marry Carolyn so easily."

"I thought as much," Stephen said. "Marcus and I talked shortly before he died.   
He said while he hated leaving you, he was glad he was going first because he   
couldn't bear the thought of living without you."

"His parents knew about us," Ellison said, "but they never said anything."

"Enough of this morose talk," Stephen said. "Let me take you and Blair to   
lunch."

"An excellent idea," Ellison smiled. "I'll get Blair."

Lunch was delicious. Afterwards, the trio sat drinking coffee and talking. "So,   
Blair," Stephen said, a strange gleam in his eyes, "why has no young lady got   
you to a wedding altar?"

Ellison gave his brother a dirty look which was ignored by Stephen and not seen   
by Blair. The young man shifted in his seat before answering.

"The town where I grew up was small," Blair said. "The Jewish population was   
also small. Even though my parents were Jewish, they were not active in the   
religion. Because of that, most Jewish parents did not consider me a proper   
husband for their daughters. Because I am Jewish, I was not allowed to court the   
daughters of non-Jews."

"Did that bother you?" the older Ellison asked.

"Not very much," Blair shrugged. "I was always more interested in my studies   
than courting. I had friends, mostly males, when I wanted to socialize and I was   
more comfortable being with them."

"And now?" Stephen prodded.

"Now it doesn't seem so important," Blair answered. "There are other ways of   
love besides finding a wife." The men were quiet after that.

That evening, Blair was sitting in his room, an open book going unread in his   
lap He was thinking about the conversation during lunch.

What the young man had not said was that it wasn't a woman he found himself   
drawn to of late. He had always been taught feelings for another man beyond   
friendship were wrong, unnatural. That was why the things he found himself   
feeling for his employer scared him.

They also saddened him. Ellison had been married and had a child so there was no   
way he would ever return whatever feelings Blair might have for him. With a   
sigh, he turned back to his book.

"September turned to October"

"Blair, would you like another cup of tea?"

"Yes, please, if it is no trouble?"

"Not at all. Pastry?"

"Yes, thank you. Excellent tea."

"Thank you. I made it myself."

There was a knock at the door and Katie walked into the playroom. "Miss   
Clarissa, are you and Mr. Sandburg through with your tea party?" she asked.

"And why was I not invited?" Ellison asked. He tried to look stern but his   
daughter saw through it.

"Oh, Daddy," she said. "You don't like tea." She started to giggle.

"But I like your tea," Ellison pouted.

"Silly Daddy," she said. She got up and gave father a hug. "Yes, Katie, we're   
through."

"It's time to get ready for dinner," Katie said.

"All right," Clarissa said.

"Thank you for a lovely tea party," Blair said.

"You are quite welcome," Blair said. Clarissa and Katie left the room.

"Clarissa seems quite taken with you," Ellison said.

"Clarissa is a wonderful child," Blair said. "I enjoy being with her."

"Mrs. Claymore's party is tomorrow evening," Ellison said. "She is looking   
forward to seeing you."

"She is a wonderful lady with a sharp mind," Blair said. "I enjoy speaking with   
her."

"She speaks highly of you as well."   
\  
"I am glad," Blair said.

"If she were fifty years younger, she would probably try to court you," Ellison   
smiled.

"Wouldn't it be me courting her?"

"Not with Mrs. Claymore."

Mrs. Claymore's party was, for the most part, a wonderful party. The elder woman   
gave Blair a hug when he and James arrived, then taking both men's arms, they   
walked to the buffet table. After filling their plates, they walked into the   
sitting room.

During the evening, the men noticed a man standing by the fireplace. He seemed   
to be expounding some point or another all evening. He might have been pleasant   
looking if his eyes were not so hate filled.

"Mrs. Claymore, who is that?" Ellison asked, nodding to the man.

"A friend of my grandson's," Mrs. Claymore snorted. "A loathsome creature by the   
name of David Lasher. An anti immigrationist who believes all immigrants should   
be sent back to the countries they came from."

"A charming young man," Ellison grimaced.

"Indeed," Mrs. Claymore said. "So far, he only speaks but I am afraid that soon   
he will feel words are no longer enough."

"Sometimes, words are more than enough," Blair said quietly. "Sometimes words   
can kill." Ellison touched his arm for support, causing Blair to give him a   
small smile.

"Do you really believe immigrants will be this nation's downfall?" someone   
asked.

"Indeed, I do," Lasher said. "They take jobs our citizens should have. They   
insist on speaking their own languages and following their customs, refusing to   
follow our customs and practices. If our people are not united we can be   
conquered."

Lasher spotted Ellison. "Mr. Ellison, your garment factory," he said. "How many   
immigrants do you employ instead of citizens?"

"I hire those who can do the job," Ellison said, "immigrant or citizen. You seem   
to forget that America is a country of immigrants. Everyone here, including you,   
I dare say, are descendants of immigrants, since you are not an Indian."

"Your assistant here is a Russian-born Jew," Lasher said. "What citizen did he   
take the job away from?"

"Mr. Sandburg reads, speaks and writes three languages," Ellison said. "He has   
read all of Shakespeare's works, including his poetry, the Torah and the Bible.   
In the few weeks he has worked for me, he has gained a working knowledge of my   
business as good as those who have worked years for me. Jewish or not, immigrant   
or not, he is the best person for the job."

"My father died before my first birthday," Blair said quietly. The room fell   
silent. "When I was three, my mother married a German business man living in   
Russia. He gave me his last name and raised me as his own son.

"Once, he was away on business. He was due back after two weeks. When a month   
passed and he had not returned, my mother left me with friends and traveled to   
St. Petersburg. I was fifteen at the time. She had no idea what she would find   
when she got there.

"When she arrived, she found he had left St. Petersburg when scheduled. She   
found out the towns he would be stopping at on the way home. At the third   
village she stopped at, she found out what happened to him. He had been spending   
the night at an inn when several of the czar's soldiers came in. When they found   
out my father was Jewish they began to torment him. His body was found behind   
the inn the next morning. He had been beaten to death and had been buried in a   
pauper's grave. The men who did this were never punished. After all, my father   
was a Jew and not even Russian.

"I immigrated to America in 1893. In 1891, my mother died from a lung illness   
because no doctor would lower themselves to treat a Jewish woman. She died in my   
arms in great pain. I came to America because there was nothing left for me   
there.

"You scare me, sir, for the simple reason that some people might take your words   
seriously. You say all immigrants should be forced to return to their own   
country. Tell me, sir, what would you do if that country refused them? It has   
happened before. Would you condemn them to a shipboard existence?"

It was silent for a minute at least. Finally, a gentleman broke the silence.   
"Well said, young man," he said. "Perhaps, Mr. Lasher, you should consider the   
individual before you consider the whole."

"Individual or whole makes no difference to me," Lasher said. "We would all be   
better off if the immigrants were gone."

"Then who would you persecute?" someone else asked.

"Don't worry, he'd find someone." That got a chuckle.

What the group did not realize was that Lasher was furious. The young Jewboy   
immigrant had embarrassed him and that was something he would not tolerate. He   
would pay for that. . . and pay dearly.

"October turned to November"

"This is utter nonsense," Ellison said.

"Nonsense it may be," Mrs. Mallory said, "but you will stay in this bed until   
the doctor says you may leave it." She picked up the tray and walked out of the   
bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

She met Blair in the hall. "How is he?" the young man asked.

"He has the disposition of a bear when he's sick," Mrs. Mallory grunted. "The   
doctor told him to stay in bed but he keeps trying to get up."

"Let me talk to him," Blair said.

"And good luck to you," she said and went downstairs.

Blair knocked on the door then opened and went inside. Ellison was lying on the   
bed with his eyes closed. Blair sat down in the chair next to the bed. James   
opened his eyes.

"Blair, will you help me out of this bed?" Ellison said.

"No," Blair said quietly.

Stunned, Ellison stammered, "What?"

"I said, no," Blair repeated. "My mother died for want of a doctor. You have a   
doctor and you will do as he says. I do not wish to lose someone else like   
that."

"I'm sorry," Ellison said. "I didn't mean to remind you of something   
unpleasant."

"It would only upset me if it happened again," Blair said. "Any business that   
needs to be done, I or Mr. Rafe can take care of it. That is what I have been   
training for, is it not?"

"Yes, it is," Ellison said. "And you have learned well. I am proud of you."

"Thank you," Blair said. "If you like, I will read to you this evening after   
dinner."

"I would like," Ellison said. "You would have made a wonderful orator. You have   
a fine voice."

For some reason, the compliment made the young man blush. Ellison saw it and   
smiled. Blair was beautiful when he blushed.

Blair read to the older man for the next seven days. He would read then they   
would talk. After a short time, Ellison would fall asleep. Blair would sit a   
little while longer then retire to his own room for the night.

The feelings both men had for each other were growing stronger. Blair wasn't   
sure if it was love he was feeling but he knew he'd never felt this way about   
anyone, man or woman. It was strange but not an entirely unpleasant feeling.   
Ellison, however, knew exactly what he was feeling. He knew that even if he   
would never be able to touch Blair in a loving way, he would be content to just   
have him in his life like this.

November turned to December

When Blair woke up on December first, a gentle snow was falling. The fire in the   
fire place had been stoked up and the bedroom was quite warm. After washing,   
shaving, and dressing Blair headed for the kitchen.

He was surprised when he found Clarissa sitting in the kitchen and her father   
was nowhere around. The little girl was eating her breakfast. He sat down next   
to her as Mrs. Mallory placed a cup of coffee in front of him.

"Where is Mr. Ellison?" Blair asked.

"He was called out early this morning," Mrs. Mallory replied.

"Business?" Blair inquired.

"Yes and no," Mrs. Mallory said.

"A policeman came around," Katie said. "Said something about an incident with   
some of the workers."

"What kind of incident?"

"Some of the workers were set upon," Mrs. Mallory said, "beaten by a group of   
men."

"The workers were immigrants, I imagine," Blair said. "The men were not."

"How did you know?" Katie asked.

"This is not the first time it has happened," Blair said. "And I dare say it   
will not be the last."

Blair quickly ate then got ready to leave. He told Mrs. Mallory to let Ellison   
know he had gone to the factory to check on things there. He gave Clarissa a   
kiss then left.

Rafe was sitting in the office when Blair got there. "What happened?" Blair   
asked.

"No one's really sure," Rafe said. "Four of our workers were beaten up. One   
died, one might, and the other two won't be working for a while."

"And the ones who did this?" Blair asked.

"The only worker who could talk said there were eight or nine of them," Rafe   
said. "It was dark, they didn't get a good look at them."

"No one ever does," Blair said. "Has Mr. Ellison been here this morning?"

"He's gone to see the families."

"I want the injured workers to receive half pay until they return," Blair said,   
"and their jobs held until that time. I'll arrange it with Mr. Ellison."

"I'll take care of it."

The second man did die. Ellison paid for both funerals. He also had no problems   
with the arrangements that Blair had made. The older man had complained to the   
police but since he had not been willing to pay their price not much would be   
done.

Blair was sure he knew who was behind this attack and others that had happened.   
David Lasher was still preaching his cancerous message and there were plenty of   
people who agreed with the hate-filled rhetoric he was spouting. Most people   
ignored him but he did have some rabid followers who would be more than willing   
to deliver his message personally to immigrants.

One Friday, Blair was having lunch with Stephen Ellison. They had just finished   
eating when the older man looked at Blair.

"What's bothering you, Blair?" Stephen asked. "Is it the attack?"

"No," Blair sighed, shaking his head. "This wasn't the first nor the last, I'm   
afraid."

"Then what is it?" Stephen asked. "You're not thinking of taking another   
position, are you?"

"No!" Blair exclaimed. "I could never leave James." His eyes went wide when he   
realized what he had said.

"It's okay, Blair," Stephen soothed. "This not the first time I have encountered   
these feelings, what others would call inappropriate feelings. You will not   
shock me nor will I condemn you or speak of them to anyone else."

The young man looked somewhat relieved although a little dubious. Still Blair   
needed to talk with someone. "Thank you, Stephen," he sighed.

"Are you in love with my brother?"   
"I... I am not sure," Blair said quietly. "I have feelings for him, feelings I   
have never had for anyone before."

"Perhaps you should talk with him," Stephen said, "tell him how you feel."   
"Then I would be looking for another position," Blair smiled.

"My brother might surprise you. He always does me."

That evening Blair thought about what Stephen had said. Yes, he admitted to   
himself, he was in love with James Ellison. He was also sure the older man would   
never return the feelings. Blair knew he would probably never stop loving James,   
he also knew he would never say anything. With a sigh, he leaned his forehead on   
the window he was standing in front of.

James heard the sigh and looked up. Blair had been very quiet since he had   
returned from his lunch with Stephen. It made his heart ache to see the young   
man so sad. He got up and walked over to him.

"Is something wrong, Blair?" Ellison asked.

"Just thinking," Blair said.

"About anything in particular?"

"May I ask you a question?" Blair asked quietly.

"Of course," Ellison said.

"Why have you not remarried?" Blair asked. "There are several women more than   
agreeable."

"I'm not interested in remarrying," Ellison said. He sat on the window seat.   
"Did something happen at lunch?"

"No," Blair said, shaking his head. "We just talked."

"To answer your question, there's no woman I'm interested in spending the rest   
of my life with," James said. What are you trying to say? he thought. Oh, my   
Blair.

Blair didn't miss the emphasis. "Is there someone you would like to spend your   
life with?" he asked. His brain was screaming for him not to do this but he   
ignored it. He reached up to push his hair behind his ear and saw his hand was   
fiercely shaking.

James noticed it too. Before he could stop himself, he reached up and took it.   
Blair's eyes grew wide as he looked at their hands then at James. He didn't move   
his hand, however.

"Yes, I have found someone," James said, "but I don't know if he feels the same   
way."

"Do you love him?"

"Very much."

"And if you were to find out he felt the same way?"

"But. . ."

"But he is afraid. He is never felt this way about anyone before and he is very   
scared."

"I would tell him I understand. I would also tell him I'm scared as well.   
Falling in love can be very scary."

"James, do you love me?" Blair asked.

"Very much," James replied. He was rewarded with a small smile. "Blair, I know   
you're scared. We can do this however you want, take it as slow as you want."

"I love you, James," Blair said, his voice barely above a whisper.

James closed his eyes and sighed. "You have made me very happy," he said,   
opening his eyes. "I have loved you since I first saw you. May I. . .may I kiss   
you?"

"I think I would like that very much," Blair said quietly.

Standing up, James never let go of the hand he was holding. He reached up and   
stroked Blair's cheek. Leaning down, he gently brushed his lips against Blair's.   
When he pulled back, James saw a smile on Blair's lips and in his eyes.   
Chuckling, James leaned in for more than a brush this time.

Blair shut his eyes and sighed when the kiss was over. "I take it you approve,"   
James smiled.

"Oh, I do," Blair said, sighing again. Before James knew what was happening   
Blair threw his arms around James' neck and kissed him. .. hard.

James' lips parted, allowing Blair's tongue entrance. Their tongues darted in   
and out of each other's mouths as they explored and tasted each other. As they   
kissed, James picked up Blair and carried him over to the couch. He managed to   
sit down without breaking the kiss.

When the kiss was over, Blair leaned against James. "I never knew it could feel   
this good," Blair whispered.

"It will get better," James promised.

"Can it get better?"

"Much better."

They stayed on the couch until it was time to retire. James decide Blair should   
sleep in his own bed, at least for this evening. James wanted him to very sure   
of his decision and they couldn't do that in the same bed. Blair pouted but he   
understood. It was going to be a long night.

When Blair woke up, it was still two hours before dawn. Getting out of bed, he   
crossed his room and the sitting room and entered James' room. Without a sound,   
Blair began to slip into James' bed. The movement woke James.

"Wha. . .? Blair?" he asked.

"Shh, my love," Blair said quietly. "I have made my decision."

James didn't say a word. He pulled back the covers, allowing Blair to lay next   
to him. As the younger man snuggled close, James covered them up. With their   
arms around each other, they fell back to sleep.

When they woke up the next morning it was obvious that someone had been in the   
room. This frightened Blair.

"It's all right, love," James soothed.

"You don't mind them knowing?" Blair asked. He was confused.

"Mrs. Mallory has been in my family employment since I was eight," James said.   
"She has been like a second mother to me. I told her about my preferences when I   
wouldn't tell my parents."

"And Katie?"

"Katie is fiercely protective of Clarissa," James explained." She knows but says   
nothing so nothing will hurt Clarissa."

"Do many people know?" Blair asked.

"The only two I care about that know are Simon and Stephen," James said. "They   
also know how I feel about you. Anyone else who knows has their own reasons for   
knowing about my preferences and will remain silent. They cannot expose me   
without exposing themselves."

"And Carolyn?" Blair asked.

"A marriage to please our parents," James said. "I did care for her and she for   
me. She gave me Clarissa."

"Stephen knows how I feel about you," Blair said. "It's what we talked about at   
lunch yesterday."

"I see," James smiled. "It's time to get up. We have much to do today. Plans   
need to be made."

"Plans?"

"For Christmas, my love," James said. He landed a kiss on Blair's nose then lips   
before getting out of bed.

When they were dressed, they went down stairs for breakfast. Clarissa was   
sitting at the table eating. She smiled when she saw her papa and Blair.   
"Are we going soon?" she asked.

James feigned ignorance. "Going where?" he asked. Blair was trying not to smile.

"Papa," Clarissa sighed. "You didn't forget."

"No, I didn't," James smiled. "As soon as Blair and I eat, we'll go."

"You're coming with us, aren't you, Blair?" she asked.

"I would not miss it," Blair said.

"We have to make preparations for the gift baskets," James said.

"Papa, can awe make an extra basket?" Clarissa asked.

"Why, Clarissa?" James asked.

"One of my friends at school," Clarissa said. "Her papa is very sick and they   
won't have a Christmas."

"Do you know where she lives?" James asked. Clarissa nodded. "Then of course we   
can make a basket."

"Thank you, Papa," the little girl smiled.

"I think it is wonderful you want to help your friend," Blair smiled.

"She and I read together," Clarissa said. "She has to work after school to help   
out."

"One day," James whispered. Blair looked at him. "I have a dream," the older man   
said. "A foolish dream really. One day, children will not have to work to help   
support the family. They will go to school and spend their days learning."

"Well, no one will be learning a thing if you don't eat your breakfast," Mrs.   
Mallory said.

"Yes, ma'am," the trio said in unison.

The stores were wonderful. They were decked out in their Christmas finery. James   
and Blair smiled as they watched Clarissa look at every thing. While James made   
arrangements for the gift baskets, Blair looked at the different items in the   
store.

James was the only one Blair had not bought something for yet. He hadn't known   
what to get him before last night. Now, it was even more difficult to decide.   
Maybe he would ask Stephen to help him choose.

"Blair, come see what I've found," Clarissa said. She took his hand and they   
walked over to the toy section.

There on a table was everything a little girl could want for her doll. It had a   
complete wardrobe, a cradle and several other items.

"Is this what you want for Christmas?" Blair asked.

"No, I have other dolls," Clarissa said. "For my friend. She doesn't have any   
dolls."

"I will talk to you papa and see what he says," Blair said.

"Talk to me about what?" James said.

"Clarissa would like to get this for her friend," Blair said, indicting the doll   
set.

"I see," James said. "And does your friend have any brothers or sisters?"

"She had a little brother," Clarissa said, "but he died last year. He was very   
sick."

"I'm sure your friend will love it," James smiled. "Now we have other places to   
visit." He took his daughter's hand and walked out of the store.

Clarissa was almost asleep on her father's shoulder when they made it home that   
evening. Lunch had been at a little cafe and dinner at a nice restaurant. James   
laid her on her bed, kissed her goodnight then let Katie get her ready for bed.   
Blair was sitting in the den and looked up when James walked in. The older man   
kissed his cheek then sat down next to him. Blair smiled, making James heart   
flutter.

"I'm glad you came with us today," he said.

"So am I," Blair said.

"Although, I will have to go by myself if I intend for your gift to be a   
surprise," James said.

"I have no ideas about what to get you," Blair confessed.

"You've already given me the best present I could wish for," James said. "You   
gave me your heart."

Blair blushed a bright pink. "You, sir, are a romantic," he managed to say.

"Only where you are concerned," James said. "Brandy?"

"No, thank you," Blair said. "I am too tired to enjoy it."

"Shall we call it an evening then?" James said. "I want to hold you until we go   
to sleep."

"Only hold me?" Blair asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Imp," James said. He stood and pulled Blair up, wrapping his arms around him.

Blair reached up and stroked James' face. "Will you show me?" he asked, "show me   
how to love you?"

"With pleasure, my own," James said. James kissed the smaller man until Blair's   
knees threatened to give out on him.

"Why don't you go upstairs and get ready for bed," James suggested. "I need to   
speak with Mrs. Mallory then I'll be up."

"All right," Blair said breathlessly. He was finally able to make his feet move   
and walked out of the room. James chuckled as he watched him go then headed for   
the kitchen.

Blair quickly undressed and pulled on a night shirt. When he walked into James'   
room, he built up the fire there then walked over to the bed. He quickly slid in   
between the covers.

He was staring at the fire when James walked in. Nothing was said as James began   
to undress. Blair had never really seen another body before and he marveled at   
what he was seeing now. James had the body of a Greek statue, only there was   
nothing cold about it. Blair felt himself grow hard as he watched.

When James was completely undressed, he walked over and sat on the bed." Blair,   
we don't have to do this," he said. "We can wait."

Blair took James' hand and placed it on his erection. "Maybe you can wait," he   
whispered, "but I don't think I can."

"Oh, God, Blair," James whispered.

Blair pulled off his night shirt. "Love me, James," he whispered.

"With all my heart," James said.

Blair came twice that night, once in James' hand and once in his mouth. James'   
orgasm happened while he stroked himself while Blair kissed him and rubbed his   
chest. James cleaned them off then they fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, they kissed and cuddled before they had to get out of bed.   
They both enjoyed waking up in each others' arms and were loathe to separate.   
Simon, his wife Marta, Daryl and Stephen were coming for lunch. That excited   
Clarissa. She loved her Uncle Stephen and Simon and Marta were a second set of   
parents to her. Daryl always made time for her as well.

When the Banks' arrived, Katie took their wraps and they walked into the den.   
James greeted them warmly, shaking Simon's and Daryl's hands and kissing Marta's   
cheek.

"Marta, if you ever come to your senses and leave Simon, I will be at the front   
of the line," James smiled.

"And what would you be doing with me?" Marta teased. Born and raised in Jamaica,   
she had been in America for twenty years but her accent was still strong.

"Unhand my wife, you villain," Simon protested.

"As you wish, sir," James conceded, "but only because you are a friend."

Blair cleared his throat, "Blair," Marta said, crossing to him. "Protect me from   
these barbarians."

"Of course, m'lady," Blair smiled, kissing her hand.

"Simon, I do believe that young man is trying to out class us," James said.

"He has far out classed both of you," Marta sniffed. She was having fun.

"It is something one must be born with," Blair preened. "It is all in the   
breeding." It was all he could do not to laugh out loud.

"James, I do believe someone is getting too big for his britches, as my father   
was so fond of saying," Simon said.

Blair took a step behind Marta. "Brutish louts," he said peering around her.

"I'll protect you," Marta assured the young man. That started everyone laughing.

Stephen arrived just as dinner was abut to be served. "Sorry I'm late," he said.   
"One of my clients decided he simply must talk to me today."

"You're here now," James told him.

After dinner, the group retired to the den for brandy. If anyone noticed that   
James and Blair sat close to each other on the couch, they didn't say anything.   
They just smiled to themselves and left it at that.

There were several other attacks on immigrants but the police were no closer to   
solving those than they were the attack on James' workers. James and Blair had   
their suspicions but, like the police they had no evidence.

Blair finally found a present for James. He found a gold watch chain. He had it   
engraved 'To James with love, Blair 12-25-85'. Since he had bought it at a   
different store, the engraver believed him when he said he was doing it as a   
favor for his sister.

The Christmas party for the factory workers was held the Sunday before   
Christmas. It was bigger than the party for Independence day. The factory was   
decorated in Christmas finery. Everyone in attendance was wearing their best   
clothes. By the time the party was over, the workers all had baskets of food   
stuffs and presents for everyone.

December 23rd and it was snowing.

Blair was getting ready to go out. James watched him with eyes full of love.   
"Will you be home in time for dinner?" James asked.

"We should be," Blair said. "Simon is going to keep you company while we are   
out."

"I can't believe Daryl waited this long to get his shopping done," James said,   
shaking his head.

"This was something he had to order and it just came in," Blair said.   
He walked over to his lover. "Later this evening, we can sit in front of the   
fire and sip brandy," he smiled.

James stood up and took Blair in his arms. "Sounds wonderful," he said and   
kissed him.

"At it again, I see."

The two broke apart. Turning, they saw Daryl and Simon standing there. Blair   
blushed but James was unrepentant.

"See what happens when you don't knock." James said.

"We did knock," Simon informed them. Blair's blush deepened and he hid his face   
in James' chest.

"We better go before Blair dies of embarrassment," Daryl chuckled.

"Too late," Blair muttered. He slipped his coat and gloves on and grabbed his   
hat. He kissed James goodbye then he and Daryl left.

"James, it's been a long time since I've seen you this happy," Simon said.

"Blair makes me very happy," James agreed. "Shall we see if you can finally beat   
me at chess?"

"Don't you mean if I finally stop letting you win?" Simon smiled.

"Blair, can I ask you a question?" Daryl asked.

"Of course."

It was after dark and the two were heading back to Blair's home. Daryl was   
carrying his mother's present while Blair carried Simon's.

"You're in love with Mr. Ellison, right?" Daryl asked.

"Yes, I am," Blair admitted.

"I'm not condemning you, but. . ."

"You want to know how I can fall in love with someone society says I shouldn't,"   
Blair said. Daryl nodded. "I had to look past what society said when I fell in   
love with James. You know, you and I are not that different. It wasn't that long   
ago that you were considered worth only three-fifths of a white person. I'm   
Jewish and an immigrant so a lot of people don't think I'm worth a lot."

"It's sad," Daryl said quietly.

"As James is fond of saying, 'One day'," Blair said.

"Yeah," Daryl sighed.

They were abut six blocks from the Ellison home when several men appeared in   
their path. Blair and Daryl attempted to go around them but it was blocked as   
was the way behind them.

"What do you want?" Blair demanded.

"Well, well, well," a voice said. "If it ain't a jewboy and his nigger friend."

"Who are you?" Blair demanded again.

"You know, Mr. Sandburg," a voice said, "your boss keeps opening his mouth about   
me to the police.

"Mr. Lasher," Blair said.

"Mr. Ellison seems to think that I have something to do with all these attacks,"   
Lasher said.

"Don't you?" Blair asked. He was trying to place himself between Daryl and the   
group.

"A moot point," Lasher shrugged.

"I'm sure the people that you attacked don't share you views," Blair said.

"Their opinions, or yours for that matter, don't really concern me," Lasher   
said. "I have a message for your boss."

"And that would be?"

"Tell him that if he doesn't stop harassing me, there will payback," Lasher   
said.

"I'll be sure to deliver the message," Blair said.

"Oh, I'm sure you will," Lasher said with a chuckle, "but let's make sure."

Blair never saw the fist that struck him first. It knocked the air out of him   
and sent him to his knees.

"Blair!" Daryl exclaimed. he kneeled next to him.

"Daryl, get out of here," Blair managed to say.

"I can't leave you here," Daryl said frantically.

"You have to," Blair wheezed. "Find James or your father. Now go." Daryl nodded.   
Before anyone could stop him, he was running down the street.

"What about him?" someone asked.

"Let him go," Lasher said. "He's probably running home to hide."

He pulled Blair to his feet. "Now, where were we?" he grinned.

If there had only been one or two, Blair might have been able to handle it, but   
there were six or seven. They took their turn punching and kicking Blair. Even   
when he was lying on the ground, they continued beating him.

Daryl made it to James' house in three minutes. He ran into the house without   
knocking. He found his father and James sitting in the den.

"Daryl what's going on?" Simon asked.

"We got corned by Lasher," Daryl said. "They hit Blair. I wanted to stay but he   
told me to run."

James was on his feet in an instant. "Take me to where this happened," he said,   
gripping the young man's arm. Daryl nodded.

James looked at Simon. "Get the carriage and come after us," he said.

"It's about six blocks west of here," Daryl said.

"I'll meet you there," Simon said. James grabbed his coat and followed Daryl   
out.

They were about a block away when they spotted the group. James sped up. The   
group saw him and took off running all directions. When they reached Blair,   
James knelt down next to him.

Blair was lying on his stomach and James gently turned him over. "Dear God in   
heaven," James said.

"James," Blair choked out.

"Be still, my love," James said. "We'll have you home before long."

"It hurts," Blair said.

"I know," James said. "Daryl, do you know where Dr. Cain lives?" The teen   
nodded. "Run to his house as fast as you can and have him meet us at my house.   
Should you see a police officer, send him there as well." Daryl took off.

Just as he left, Simon pulled up with wagon. Jumping down, he hurried over to   
James. "Oh, sweet Jesus," he said.

"Help me get him into the carriage," James said. "I sent Daryl after Dr. Cain."

Blair cried out as the two men picked him up. Mercifully, he lost consciousness   
because of the pain. They covered him with a blanket. James rode in the back   
with him while Simon drove the horses.

The carriage had barely stopped when James jumped out of it. Scooping up Blair,   
he carried the young man into the house and up to their third floor bedroom.   
James and Simon cut his clothes off Blair, knowing that would be easier than   
trying to undress him.

Just as they were cleaning him up, Dr. Cain arrived with his wife who was a   
nurse. They sent James and Simon out of the room where Blair was examined.   
As they waited, a police officer showed up. He talked to Daryl, getting all the   
facts the young man could give him including David Lasher's name. The officer   
told James to inform the station when Mr. Sandburg could talk or, heaven forbid,   
he died from the attack. James promised to do so.

As the police officer left the doctor came down the stairs. "Dr. Cain," James   
said.

"I'd put him in the hospital but moving him might do him more harm."

"His injuries?" James asked.

"Both legs are broken as is one of his arms," Cain said. "He has several broken   
and cracked ribs. Luckily, none punctured a lung. I don't believe there's any   
internal bleeding but he may have a concussion. When he wakes up, he will be in   
considerable pain. He will need round the clock nursing for several weeks."

"Anything he needs, arrange it," James said.

"I'm going to send Daryl to the hospital for some supplies I'll need," Cain   
said. "It'll be a few days before I can set his legs and arms. Some of the   
swelling needs to go down first and I still need to strap his ribs."

"Will he live?" James asked.

"Only time will tell us that," Cain said.

"May I see him?" James asked.

"Of course," Cain smiled "I'll get the list made up."

James went upstairs and into the bedroom. Mrs. Cain stepped outside to give him   
some privacy. James reached up and gently touched his love's forehead.   
"Oh, my Blair," James said. "Please don't leave me. I know it's selfish but I   
won't make it without you. Please wake up. I know it hurts but I need to know   
you're still with me."

There was a moan from the bed. "That's it, my love," James said. "Come back to   
me. . ."

 

"He's coming around."   
Blair licked his dry lips, half expecting them to be split and swollen. He   
opened one eye and saw Jim sitting on the bed next to him.

"Ja. . .Jim?" he croaked.

"You gave us quite a scare, Sandburg," Simon said.

Blair opened both eyes and looked at the captain. "Sorry about that," he said.

"I'll go get the doctor," Simon said and left the room.

"How are you feeling?" Jim asked.

"Like Dorothy in the 'Wizard of Oz'," Blair said. "How long was I out?"

"About three hours," Jim said. "You had us really worried."

Just then the door opened and Simon walked in followed by the doctor. They   
walked over to the bed.

"Hello, Mr. Sandburg," the doctor said. "I wish I could say it was nice to see   
you again."

"Same here, Doc," Blair said.

"I'd suggest we keep you overnight but it is Christmas Eve, albeit barely, and I   
don't feel like arguing with you. Add to that, I know Det. Ellison knows what to   
watch for," the doctor said. "God knows he's done it enough. I'll finish the   
paper work then you'll be free to go. Gentlemen." He turned and walked out of   
the doors.

"I'll wait outside for you two," Simon said and followed the doctor out.

"You sure you're all right, partner?" Jim asked.

"Yeah," Blair said. "I had the strangest. . .dream I guess you would call it."

"What about?"

"I'll tell you when we get home," Blair said, sitting up. "There's something   
else we need to talk about."

When Blair sat up, it brought his face just a couple of inches away from Jim's.   
For a moment, neither spoke as they looked in each others' eyes.

"Would it have something to do with how much I love you?" Jim asked quietly.

"No," Blair said. "It's about how much I love you."

If asked, they would be hard pressed to say who kissed whom first, not like it   
mattered. That first kiss was sweet and tender but held promises of things to   
come. They broke apart right before the nurse walked in with Blair's release   
papers.

Simon dropped them off at the loft, saying that he didn't want to see either of   
them until the following Monday. When they got in the loft, Jim insisted Blair   
sit on the couch while he fixed the younger man a cup of tea. He handed it to   
Blair then sat down next to him.

"So what subject do you want to talk about first?" Jim asked. "Your weird dream   
or how much I want to undress you?"

Blair managed to set his mug down without spilling any. Quite a feat,   
considering how badly his hands were shaking. Moving aver to Jim, he threw one   
leg over Jim and sat in his lap.

"I love you, James Edward Ellison," Blair said. "I have almost from the day I   
met you. You are so beautiful, inside and out, that I couldn't help but love   
you."

Jim unbuttoned Blair's shirt then pushed it off him. He grabbed the hem of the   
young man's t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Jim ran his hand through the   
thick hair on the chest in front of him.

"You're the beautiful one, Blair," the detective said quietly. "Only someone as   
beautiful as you could fall in love with this battle-scarred, anal-retentive cop   
who's staring forty full in the face."

"The other half of my soul," Blair whispered and kissed Jim.

It was several minutes before they stopped kissing. Blair stood up then offered   
his hand to Jim. The older man took it and stood up.

"Your bedroom or mine?" Blair asked.

"Our bedroom," Jim corrected. They walked arm in arm up the stairs.

Jim finished undressing Blair then Blair undressed him. They spent the time   
exploring each other's bodies, touching, kissing, tasting. They finally fell   
asleep in each other's arms, sated and loved, just as the sun was coming up. Jim   
still wanted to hear the dream but it could wait until later.

It was close to noon when Blair woke up. Jim was using him as a blanket so he   
just laid with his head on his love's chest, listening to the heart beating   
there. After a few minutes, he heard it speed up. Looking up, he saw Jim's eyes   
open and smiling.

"Morning, love," Jim said. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right," Blair said. He stretched up and kissed Jim. "Now that's a   
proper good morning."

"I think so," Jim said. "How about a shower?" Kiss. "Something to eat?" Kiss.   
"And then you can tell me about this weird dream you had." Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

"All right," Blair said. He grinned. "We can shower together. It'll be good for   
the environment, you know, saves water."

"Of course."

An hour later, they were sitting on the couch and Blair was telling Jim the   
dream. It took a while to relate because Blair went into great detail about what   
had happened.

"And this dream covered seven months?" Jim asked.

"Almost," Blair said. "It started in late June of 1895 and the attack happened on   
December 23rd."

"The same day you hit your head," Jim said.

"Yeah," Blair said. "It all seemed so real."

"Those types of dreams often do," Jim said. He kissed the top of Blair's head.   
"Come on," he said. "I don't know about you but I have a few things I need to   
pick up before this evening."

"So do I," Blair said, getting off the couch. "Are you sure you can handle the   
mall on Christmas Eve, big guy?"

"If I can handle having you as a lover, everything else is a breeze." Jim got   
off the couch and got his wallet, gun, and badge.

"Very funny, Ellison."

Jim pulled Blair into his arms. "That's because everything after you is   
anticlimactic," he said, kissing his lover's forehead.

"Nice save."

"I thought so."

Epilogue

"I must say I was quite surprised when you called, Mr. Sandburg," Mrs. Stephens   
said. "Your request was very unusual."

"I understand that," Blair said, "and I want to thank you for seeing me."

"You said it had to do with my great-grandfather," she said. They went into the   
living room and sat down. "Coffee?"

"Please, black," he said.

She poured him a cup and handed it to him. "So, tell me, Mr. Sandburg," she   
said, "What's on your mind?"

"Please forgive me if I'm too forward," Blair apologized. "You said the love of   
your great-grandfather's life was from the Eastside."

"Yes."

"Was this love a Jewish immigrant from Russia?" Blair asked. "A male immigrant?"

Mrs. Stephens leaned back in her chair. "If you're asking if my greatgrandfather   
was homosexual, then yes, he was," she said, "and, yes, his love was a Jewish   
immigrant." She looked at him. "There's no way you could have found that out."

"Right before Christmas, I got knocked out," Blair said. "While I was   
unconscious, I had a dream. It was about a factory owner and the young Jewish   
immigrant who started out as his assistant and became his lover.

"He had a daughter named Clarissa, his wife was deceased. He had a brother.   
While his lover had no living relatives. He held a fourth of July picnic for his   
workers and at Christmas, he held a party and gave them gift baskets." Blair   
stopped speaking but seemed to have more to say.

"Remarkable," Mrs. Stephens whispered. "And you say you dreamed all this?"

"Yes," Blair said quietly. "There's one more thing, the last part of my dream."

"What was it?"

"A brutal attack on me, I mean the young man," Blair said. "He was severely   
beaten by a group of anti-immigrationists, led a man named. . ."

"Simon Jones," she said. "It happened on. . ."

"December 23, 1895," Blair said.

"Mr. Sandburg, that was some dream," she said, "and quite an accurate one as   
well."

"What were their names?"

"Michael Torrence and Gregor Chompsky," she replied. "They were together for   
almost fifty years."

"So Gregor survived the attack," he said.

"Barely," she said. "From what my grandmother told me it was over a year before   
he could walk without crutches and he always used a cane."

"And Jones?"

"Jones was arrested and convicted of attempted murder," she told him. "He died   
in prison ten years later after being convicted of all the charges."

"My dream ended right after the attack," Blair said.

"My grandmother said their only regret was that they could never show their love   
in public," she said.

"Yeah, I know that feeling," Blair said. "One day."

He stood up. "Thank you for seeing me," Blair said. "I really needed to talk to   
you."

"You're quite welcome," she said. "And Mr. Sandburg," he turned to look at her,   
"I hope you and your love are as happy as they were."

Blair's smile was blinding. "We are," he said. "We really are."


End file.
